Iron Fic Lounger-Sue
by The Chairman
Summary: Contestants had 24 hours to write 1500 words, using a Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu version of one of their fellow Teachers' Lounge denizens as the secret ingredient
1. LunaDeclan

This universe is the property of JK Rowling. The OC is inspired by a member of the Teachers' Lounge Forum, but may or may not bear any resemblance to the actual person.

He kept to himself on the train. He had no idea what to do or whom to speak with, anyhow. He was older than the first-year kids and different from the older kids. He shouldn't be there, although he belonged. The last year had been a difficult time, but exhilarating and new as well.

There he'd been, prowling a bookshop in Galway, bringing the books to himself as he always did, when someone walked around a bookshelf and smiled at him. He held his hand out. "I'm Ted Tonks. I don't believe we've met. Are you just out of Hogwarts? Perhaps you've met my daughter, Nymphadora?"

"Er, the name is Declan, and I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

The other person, a chubby sort of guy who would be completely average in normal clothes and wasn't quite non-average even in a university robe of some sort, looked a little worried. "I've been watching you practicing magic for half an hour. Did you go to one of the other schools?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about. It's just this trick I can do, it's no big deal. Don't go crazy on me."

The older fellow nodded his head. "You mean like this?" Declan's table lifted off the floor and slowly spun in a perfect circle, and then gently dropped down again. Declan wouldn't have believed it had actually happened except it landed on his foot. In his own frustration, he let out a yell and the table slid across the room until it bumped another table.

"What is this? You can't do that! There are laws of nature, you know!"

The gentleman smiled and nodded. "There are a great many laws of nature that most people don't understand. I see you like to read books on a great variety of subjects. Why don't you read these three, and we'll meet here in say a month?"

Without Declan's understanding how they got there, some ancient-looking books were under the older man's hand on the table. The older man winked and left the books behind. History of Magic by someone named Cogsworth, Simple Charms by Belinda Smookins, and From Mind to Wand, by Eliphinda Ollivander.

Declan had come back within the month. Certain stories about an estranged grandfather suddenly made sense, and the simple spells in the books had been ridiculously easy for him. Tonks gave him three new books and a card with an address on it. "Turbulent times ahead. We may have to stop meeting, and if we ever do, feel free to go to this address. The wife knows about you and will pick up wherever I leave off."

And so it went for the next six months. Tonks brought him books, and they discussed various topics about magic. "I'm basically leading you through the first several years of what you would learn at Hogwarts, since you're already almost of age, in magical reckoning. At some point, I'll have to let the Ministry know about you, but that's a tricky thing at this point."

"What's the matter with the Ministry?"

"A group are trying to take over who don't like people who don't have at least two or preferably three magical grandparents."

"That's racist! Someone should do something about that! Vote the bastards out!"

"Well, we're working on it, but the bastards, as you call them, have great skill, magically, and no qualms about using it to overpower everyone else."

"But thats-" Declan thought for a moment and sputtered out.

"Exactly. We're going to have to use a certain amount of finesse to get this to work. It makes your situation a little difficult, but at some point, we'll probably win out. If you and I lose contact, go to the wife. She's about as pure blood as they come, and she'll look after you. She looked after me."

They moved their meeting places around, and over time Tonks started to look a bit haggard. He lost weight, and there were circles under his eyes. Then came the meeting that Tonks missed. Declan had never taken Tonks's comments about danger seriously, but now it was time to worry.

He waited a month and came back, again. Tonks didn't show up this time either.

He finally went to the address Tonks gave him. The woman who answered was tired but kind, and she introduced him to some friends in the Ministry. It seemed that through Ted Tonks's tutelage, Declan was ready to go to Hogwarts for the same seventh year that many students were either taking or repeating in the coming year. Thus it was that Declan found himself on the train with a packed trunk, robes similar to what Tonks had worn at most of their meetings, and books that Declan had already read cover to cover.

The sorting hat was an odd experience, arguing on his head between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw until the hat seemed almost tired of the question and shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" Someone pointed to a table where most of the trimmings were blue, and he sat down thankfully.

"So how is it that you've taken so long to become a student here? Are you a transfer from one of the other schools?" Declan looked across the table at a brown-haired girl who didn't seem to match the other students.

"No, I was sort of discovered in a book shop. A wizard named Ted Tonks taught me most of what I know over the last year or so."

"We knew his daughter."

Declan found himself growing heated. "It's all so stupid! All those bigots, just killing people for no good reason! Someone should-"

A blonde girl Declan hadn't noticed before turned and put her finger on his lips. "You get very excited, don't you? I think you have special skills. You need to look within and find your quiet place."

The brown haired girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, Luna, how could you know that?"

Luna shrugged a slim shoulder, a slight movement that captured Declan's every thought and emotion at that moment. "Not everything is in books, Hermione. You know that as well as anyone."

A few weeks went by, and Declan found that Hermione was a girl after his own heart. She and he worked well, together and worked hard, with the result that one or both of them led the seventh years in almost every subject. Hermione became his best friend, easily taking up the lessons Tonks had given him and continuing them. Declan easily found himself adopting many of her attitudes as they mirrored the sorts of things he'd always fought for as a school student before he discovered magic.

"House elves need rights!" he declaimed at breakfast one morning. "It's not fair that sentient beings should be treated like slaves or animals!" For the first time in weeks, Luna turned and smiled at him, putting her finger over his lips again. He was rendered motionless, he was sure of it. There was no other reason he wouldn't start kissing her fingertips. "You haven't found your special skills yet, have you? You don't have to be so vehement all the time. Are you going to find your quietness?"

He shook his head, and she continued. "It's a shame, you know. You should talk to the House elves. Since they're sentient, they have their own opinions and probably would be willing to share what they think with you."

He was finally able to back away. "But Hermione says..."

Luna nodded. "Hermione isn't wrong, but she never asked the House elves, herself. Don't you think you could better work for what they need if you know what they think on the subject?"

Declan couldn't argue, and although his mind screamed a thousand things that should refute what Luna was saying, somehow he knew logic was on her side.

"Come," she said, so he went with her.

They went down to a pen near the Forbidden Forest. She climbed into the pen and he followed. "We have to be very, very quiet," she said. "Just ask Draco."

Declan made a face. He'd met Malfoy and had a dim view of the wanker. He had fallen into some sort of spell, however, and knew he would do exactly what Luna told him for the next few minutes. Somehow he felt that he was learning an extracurricular lesson, and for the first time all term, it was something that had the flavor of the instinctual magic Tonks had taught him.

Something rustled in the trees. Luna whispered. "This is when we kneel and bow our heads."

"But that's demeaning!" he hissed, quietly, because the animal looked fierce.

"Just do it."

He would later learn that the majestic creature was called a Hippogriff, and that most students weren't allowed near them. In the quiet, he felt a humility in the presence of the animal and felt his way into kneeling and bowing. Suddenly, the animal bowed, too. Luna tugged his arm. "Now we can climb on his back."

"But-" suddenly, he knew to just be quiet. He climbed on behind Luna and held on around her waist, since she seemed to know how to hold on to the animal.

Suddenly they were flying, and Declan saw things in his head and felt his affinity for the magical creature.

"You know," Luna said, "Somehow I feel as though your name is really Rolf...


	2. HermioneCordelia

This universe is the property of JK Rowling. The OC is inspired by a member of the Teachers' Lounge Forum, but may or may not bear any resemblance to the actual person

"Miss Granger, this accusation is quite serious, you know."

Professor McGonagall was right, as always. The accusation was quite serious. Professor Umbridge - and I use "Professor" only in that is her title - had been using a Blood Quill on Harry. An _illegal_ Blood Quill. I could see something was wrong in the way Harry held his hand close to him when he returned to the Common Room after his detention. But when I saw the trickle of blood on his ring finger, I knew he was in danger.

"It's a Blood Quill, professor. I just know it."

"Be that as it may, it isn't an accusation one can just go flinging around. I will need to speak with Mr Potter myself."

"But Harry will deny everything, Professor. And the Blood Quill leaves no marks, at least unless it's overused, but even then it will -"

"That will do, Miss Granger. And please don't give me cause to inquire as to how you know so much about such a dark object. Now, if there is nothing more, it is a lovely Autumn Saturday, and you might enjoy the weather before it chills."

I turned to leave, but my legs wouldn't move. This was our O.W.L. year, second only to our N.E.W.T. year in importance, and this - this horrid, toad-faced woman was ruining everything. How could we possibly study Defence without any actual training? The O.W.L.'s practical component would eat us alive. That's half the test. I was staring an "Acceptable" in the face, and it had me paralyzed with fear like a Boggart.

"My dear child," Professor McGonagall said, guiding me to a chair. "It will be alright, really. Harry's a strong lad, and he has friends like you and Mr Weasley, and -"

"It's not that, Professor. I know Harry will be fine, he always is. But Professor Umbridge isn't teaching us at all. It's been nothing but book work and rote recitation. How can we possibly do well on our O.W.L.s if we don't learn Defence? And if I don't get a good O.W.L., how will I ever have a career in the Ministry?"

After this, I began sobbing openly. Professor McGonagall produced a handkerchief, which I took gratefully.

"Perhaps Mr Potter would be able to -"

"He said no," I replied. "I asked him, and he said 'I don't want anymore trouble than I've already got.'"

"He always did have dreadful grammar," Professor McGonagall tutted, which managed to get a chuckle out of me.

"I understand, though," I continued. "He's been through so much, seen so much, done so much. It's completely unfair that we ask him to continue to put himself on the line. I just - I don't know, perhaps I ought to arrange something myself."

Just then, Professor McGonagall's fireplace lit up, and she excused herself to take a quick Floo call. She looked at me as if to finally shoo me off, but then seemed to change her mind.

"Perhaps you'd like to come with me, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked. "We're welcoming in a new fifth-year student - very unusual, I know. It took a bit to get her paperwork sorted, but she's in Britain now, and should be apparating in any moment."

"Where is she from?"

"America," Professor McGonagall replied. "Somewhere in the middle, to be precise."

"If she's from America, why isn't she attending Ilvermorny?"

"There was an exchange of students between Hogwarts and Ilvermorny over the summer. Sally-Anne Perks was asked to be Hogwarts's ambassador to Ilvermorny. Poor dear - I hope she manages to make some friends at her new school. I hear she was sorted Wampus.

"Speaking of sorting," Professor McGonagall continued, "I would consider it a personal favour if you would look after our new student. See to it that she's settling in, make her feel welcome. It's not that I don't trust Miss Patil or Miss Brown, it's just, well."

"I understand, Professor," I replied. "But what makes you so certain she'll be sorted Gryffindor?"

"The same thing that makes this a personal favour, Miss Granger. Her grandfather is my dearest second cousin. She's family."

* * *

Cordelia, or Cords (all her really close friends called her Cords) was nothing short of a breath of fresh air from the moment she entered the 5th year Gryffindor girls' dormitory room, and we became very fast friends. While she got along well enough with Pavarti and Lavender, she wasn't anything like them. Oh, certainly, she was easily prettier than both of them combined, but it was an effortless sort of pretty, the kind that brightened a room rather than shut it down. Her puckish smile and playful blonde pixie cut created a kind of music about her, accompanied by the twinkle of her hazel eyes, and the brightness of her Midwestern American accent. Luna once said she heard the song of the Blibbering Humdinger whenever Cords walked by. I'm pretty sure I heard it, too.

She told me she had chosen Thunderbird as her house, because it represented adventure, the soul, and the power of a storm. When I asked her about getting to choose her house, she demurred, but I found out later that the houses themselves selected their own students, and getting to choose meant that all four houses had wanted her. It was easy to see why. Her marks were outstanding, her magical ability was powerful, yet refined, her demeanour was delightful without being cloyingly so, and being from America (and a Muggleborn, thank Merlin!), her fashion sense was years beyond anything one was normally likely to see at Hogwarts, even though she looked most at home, most genuinely _Cordelia_ , in a Hogwarts robe and Gryffindor tie.

But what I loved most about her was her heart. At supper the first night she joined us, she remarked on the good spirits of Hogwarts's house elves. When I mentioned they were unpaid slaves, she nearly leapt to her feet to decry the injustice of their plight. That evening, she not only joined S.P.E.W., but she devised a campaign to raise awareness of the elves' misfortune without putting the elves themselves in the awkward position of having to demand better working conditions. By the end of September, nearly every Muggleborn and a good number of half-blooded students were walking around the halls with S.P.E.W. badges. Harry took to her right away, of course, and even Ron, after some initial misgivings about her S.P.E.W. membership, warmed up to her quickly. Within a week our little trio had become four, and there were times I wondered how the three of us had ever survived as friends without her.

* * *

"This just isn't right, 'Mione," she said to me once after double Defence. "We spent two hours in that classroom, and never did anything other than recite passages from the textbook - a textbook written in 1953. Is it always like that? How are we supposed to learn this way? And, more importantly, Voldemort's back. How are we supposed to defend ourselves?"

"It is precisely always like that, Cords," I answered. "And many of us have had this same question for the entire school year. But you've seen what happens to Harry when he asks questions. And now that Umbridge is High Inquisitor, I don't think there's anything that's going to stop her from completely shutting down anything that would allow us to prepare."

"Um-Bitch is more like it, she said, scowling."

"Stop, Cords," I giggled. "You can't just go around saying that about professors." I didn't want her to stop, however. I had never heard someone use such language about an adult in a position of authority, and it was more than a little exciting. If Cordelia could do that, what couldn't she do?"

"It doesn't matter what we call her, 'Mione. We're going to take her down."

I could see the plans forming in the twinkle of her eyes. Her face seemed to glide effortlessly from indignant to furious to contemplative to mischievous. It was breathtaking. Rapturous. Nearly too much to handle. But when she said

" And we'll take her down together,"

I became completely undone. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned my face close to hers, closed my eyes, and kissed her. It was no peck on the lips, either, mind. It was a proper snogging. Of course, it was also in front of most of fifth year. There were whoops and cheers and whistles. My face grew pale, I dropped my bookbag, and sprinted for the dormitory. She was hot on my heels, but I didn't notice. All I knew is that I'd just ruined the only real friendship I'd ever had with another girl, and probably humiliated her beyond belief. Certainly she'd tell Professor McGonagall, and I'd either be drummed out of Hogwarts and sent away to some other school, or put on some sort of permanent detention. And I didn't even know I liked girls. I had never prepared for this. What was magical society's position on homosexuality? Would I be shunned? Would I be forced to live like a squib, or worse?

All of these things were working their way through my head so loudly, that I nearly jumped three feet in the air when Cordelia burst through the door, slammed it behind her, and cast a very tidy _colloportus_.

"Hermione Jean Granger, what on earth were you doing running off like that?!" she said.

"I kissed you," I squeaked back.

"Yes, yes you did," she replied.

"And now you're never going to be my friend again."

She chuckled, and all I could think of is how I'd miss that melodic laugh of hers when they threw me out of Gryffindor.

"For the brightest witch of your age, you can be awfully daft."

I flipped over in the bed, sat up, and looked at her quizzically. She sat down next to me and took my hands.

"Hermione, I said I wanted to bring down Umbridge together, and I meant that. I meant that I want to take down Umbridge. And that I want it to be with you. I couldn't do that alone. I'd've been lost these first few weeks without you here. And, well, I was looking for a way to ask you to come to Hogsmeade with me next weekend. So you've made that part easier."

"I - you - what?" I stammered.

"I really like you, 'Mione," she said. "In fact, I was sort of hoping you might be my girlfriend."

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend," I shrieked. I hugged her tightly around the neck, and then she kissed me, and it was as if the stars aligned, having waited for that moment.

" _I wonder what I'll wear,_ " she mused, and I smiled.

"Oh, I'm sure whatever you pick out will be perfect," I replied. Then her mouth dropped open. She grabbed my head and looked deep into my eyes.

" _Tell me if you can hear this,_ " she thought, and it was all I could do to keep calm.

" _Yes, yes I can,_ " I thought in reply. She dropped her hands into her lap and shook her head.

"'Mione," she said, out loud this time.

"I think our souls have bonded."


End file.
